A creature such as myself, with an acceptable cut of trouser, careful attention to the shape of haircut, medium-rare fitness and health levels, and years of careful observation of required public performance, is unused, as a rule, to being BLANKED by bar staff. So it came as a horrible shock last night to deal with the backs of heads, extended phone calls and lingering attention to other patrons that were the BLANKING tactics of the SKANKS at the Union Club Hotel, Fitzroy. There is a crushing sense of worthlessness associated with this kinda shit and it took me a good 25 minutes of ranting to my crew before I regained my sunny self-belief.
I will, however, be honing a revenge, and laying it upon those SKANKS. Plan A at present is to swan in with as many junkies and crims I can rustle up and spend most of a weekend evening in there, shouting and swearing and ordering complicated and annoying drinks, and blocking the dunnies with vomit and drug-based debris.
No fuckin SKANKS gunna BLANK me and get away with it.
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